


First Flight

by HapSky



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Character Study, Clouds, Flying, Gen, Sky - Freeform, Soul Bond, potential zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 08:47:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13543836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HapSky/pseuds/HapSky
Summary: The Black Lion got heavily damaged during the last fight against Zarkon, and it needs the sky’s elemental essence to be repaired. However, this essence can only be found in the core of a Namika, a majestic creature guarding the skies of an ancient planet. So the Paladins visit one of the villages on this planet and try to get help from the natives, but they are told the Namika were extinct thousands of years ago. All hope seems lost, until Natie asks the Paladins to jump, and Shiro does.





	First Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Potential Zine](https://potential-zine.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> This zine ended up as a big bang, and I kinda missed the "bang" and now I'm late to post my piece...  
> But this project was really fun and amazing, and I'm proud I was a part of it!

Shiro feels weird, on their way towards this ancient planet. Feels weird to leave Black behind, injured and hurt. Feels strangely lonely. The planet they are approaching is home to his element and it feels out of place to feel like returning, when in this reality, he has never been there before.

Shiro's element is the sky, Allura had told him. His, and that of his Lion. He can feel the major hole in his soul, now that Black's elemental core got damaged and removed, can feel his Lion's wound. It irritates him to miss a part of himself he never knew he had. It's a dull pain, a mix of feeling lovesick and homesick, and feeling alone.

He keeps silent, ignores Keith's and Lance's bickering in Red, and when Pidge asks him if he is okay, he nods.

 

From afar, the planet looks like one big cloud. But as Red and Green come closer, Shiro can see cliffs and islands the colour of milky pearls poking through the white mass. Entering the atmosphere, no clouds hinder their view. The sky is clear. The clouds hover on the ground, moving in slow waves, like an ocean of fluffy snow. Pidge is left speechless, Keith and Lance are in total awe as well.

But Shiro can only feel strangely detached. It sure is a pretty planet! The sea of clouds is impressive, and so are the huge dazzling cliffs. Still, it's not the sensation of seeing something new and amazing that strikes him. It's the familiarity this place emits. The feeling of déjà vu tricking him to believe he has been here once before.

Maybe he has, he wonders. Maybe this part of him he didn't knew existed, that Guardian Spirit of the Sky within him, maybe this is its home. He smiles sadly at that. Good to know, that if anything should happen to their earth, the Paladins of Voltron will have a home amongst the stars waiting for their return.

 

This planet is home to the Namika. Coran had described them as majestic creatures, elegant and graceful. Gracious and kind. Shiro hopes they will be able to help them. He does not know what the elemental core exactly is they need to repair black with, Coran had only mentioned it being similar to quintessence, but instead of solely consisting of energy, the Namika's core is pure essence of the sky's element. Black's element.

He wonders what they are like, creatures that carry an elemental essence within themselves. So far, they haven't seen anything on this planet that could be a living being. Or homes and houses of living beings. Maybe they don't live in houses, Shiro thinks absentmindedly. But then Lance calls out, “There!” and proves him wrong.

The Namika do live in small dome like dots, made of the cliff's material. White circles arranged in an even bigger circle near the cloudy sea, a wide empty middle in the centre of the town. It is deserted, the town. Like the skies. No Namika flies, or hustles busily on the ground. Pidge and Keith land their Lions outside of the village, to not startle the natives. Shiro doesn't know if there even is someone to startle. Maybe the Namika had left this planet.

 

They inspect the round houses. No windows, and oddly enough, no doors. Lance knocks, but shrugs as he gets no answer. Keith sighs.

“Maybe they are not here?” he asks the same question Shiro had asked himself as well. “Maybe Coran's information is wrong, I mean, it is a few thousands years old...”

Lance nods at that, but Shiro shakes his head. It feels like home, and as disturbing as it is to feel at home in a foreign place, it also means that this planet hosts life. There can't be an atmosphere of home if it's no one's home at all.

So Shiro shakes his head, and his companions smile quietly. There is something to it, to this planet, that mutes their desire to speak. Lance and Keith walk in silence, Pidge doesn't mutter to herself. Shiro's thoughts are placid. They search the village for any signs of inhabitants, a trace, something. Anything.

They find nothing, and when the day's light starts to dim slowly, they sit down in the town's centre. There is no feeling of haste within them, no disappointment either. They don't expect the houses to start glowing, like there has been light lit inside, behind windows they haven't been able to see. But they are also not surprised when they do.

The town comes to life, warm yellow lamps the traces in the ground they have been looking for earlier. An old lady steps out of one of the domes, a door like opening melts out of the wall, and other people follow suit. They surround them, the foreigners in their circle.

The Paladins are welcomed with a small grin, a tiny crook in the corner of the old lady's lips, and a nod to shoo them inside. She wears a white robe over a deep blue shirt and some straight cut jeans. Shoes similar to black sneakers. Her hair is made into a loose bun. A weird outfit, familiar, but also slightly off. It's strange.

 

A table with tea and sweet bread awaits them inside, it smells delicious and looks fantastic. Comfortable chairs around the table, on which some other natives had sit down already. The lady gestures for them to sit as well.

“Thanks!” Lance beams at her and does as he is told, Keith takes the seat next to him wordlessly. Pidge nods, smiles, and sits down on Keith's other side. Shiro stands. He has no tears in his eyes, but his heart sure feels like it. If it could shed tears, it would.

“Thank you,” he says in a hushed, grateful voice. “For inviting us in your home like this...”

The lady smirks a toothy grin. “Sorry we’ve let you wait,” she says with an old, rough voice. Warm and friendly. Shiro sits down next to Lance.

“I'm the chief, you can ask me for whatever it is you need,” she laughs and offers tea and bread. Like a doting grandmother, but not quite. Again, it's so very familiar, which makes the feeling of something being just a tad bit off so strange.

“We came to this planet because we are looking for a Namika's core,” Shiro explains. “We are the Paladins of Voltron, and the Black Lion's elemental essence got damaged in our fight against Zarkon.” The chief lady hums understandingly. Although it also sounds sad, as if she were sorry. In her eyes glitters an apology, she worries her thin lips.

“Here I brag about helping, but I can't help you with that I'm afraid,” she mumbles slowly, creaks in her voice. She really looks sad, as if she had been looking forward to help their guests. Her face, traced by time’s harsh treatment, crinkles up in wrinkles. “The Namika, the creatures guarding our skies in ancient times, are no longer to be found on this planet like they have been.”

 

The news are shattering, but also not. Not really. Lance’s shoulders slump down and he mutters a small “Oh…” but then, he accepts defeat so easily. Keith and Pidge just nod, as if she had been telling them the sun won’t shine today, it’s going to rain. Something within Shiro stirs. He politely accepts the chief’s offer to stay as long as they want though, thanks her for her hospitality, for the hospitality of her people.

“Natie can show you around if you’d like?” she says and at here words, a young native steps forth. He is relatively tall, but slender. He wears a simple knitted black sweater that’s a tad bit too big for him, black pants and white boots. His hair is of a dark night sky blue, fluffy and airy. His skin is pale and his eyes are of a strong azure hue. He is beautiful, and his heart seems kind.

“Thanks,” says Lance with a good mood and smiles at Natie, who smiles back, eyes closed. It’s the little things, Shiro realises. Small acts that seem so right and seem so wrong. When Natie takes them around the village, Shiro observes the townspeople.

There are no children, but some natives still act like they were. Laughing, chasing each other. It’s off, but maybe their species just ages slower? Shiro really should stop comparing them to humans, but it’s so hard when they are so alike. They greet each other with a hug, Shiro has never seen so many people hugging each other in one place. But maybe they just show affection more openly? It feels weird though, still feels weird. Suddenly the village is full of life.

Natie tells them about little somethings, Pidge listens closely. Lance and Keith have stopped, have started watching a street musician play on a flute like instrument. He moves his fingers, but there are no holes in the flute. A child’s song melody.

 

“Why do you fight Zarkon?” Natie asks. Shiro turns his head, sees genuine interest in those clear eyes.

“Because others can’t, and we do. Because no one else would,” he tells him. It feels weird to watch Natie’s eyes. They are of a deep endlessness. They can hold anything, Shiro thinks. Like a big heart can hold many feelings. Natie’s eyes are filled with an empty sky.

“Your Lion lost its core, and you lost your arm,” he hints at the danger coming along with a fight like theirs.

“I haven’t lost my life yet,” Shiro says. He will fight for others, others who can’t or won’t fight for themselves. “I want to live, even if it might not seem like it,” Shiro laughs. “I value life.”

He feels a whisper of warmth in his chest, watching the oddly behaving natives, his oddly behaving comrades. Keith and Lance never did get along this well. Pidge never liked sitting still.

“We value life as well,” Natie follows Shiro’s eyes. “We trust each other with our hearts,” he whispers. Shiro glances back at him.

The chief had greeted them with an attitude much alike to the behaviour of water, Shiro notices. Bending and adapting. Cool and distant. In the chief’s welcoming words had echoed a tone of subtle obedience, a shy submissiveness lies in all of the natives’ manner.

It’s wrong. Humans are the creatures from the blue planet, the planet of water. The water’s characteristics belong to the humans. These people, the natives of this white planet, they try to imitate the water, and fail, because they are not supposed to be like humans.

Natie’s eyes are the only ones caging the skies within them. The only ones that gaze back at him with the unpredictable power of the wind, the only ones that carry the determined strength of the horizon. At the end of the day, Shiro asks to spend the night on this planet, and of course, his wish is granted and they are shown their rooms.

 

The beds are comfy and warm, the air is mild, but Shiro can’t find sleep. So he silently sneaks out, away from the village. When he halts, he has reached the edge of the nearby cliff.

The night sky is like glass, Shiro thinks. Crystal clear, covered in a hundred galaxies' stars. Standing here, he can see far beyond the horizon, there is no end to the eternal black. A blackness, that is not black at all. It's everything but black. It's full of light. Stars and moons and suns jared in the glassy sky of this planet.

Shiro turns around, and turns and turns and no matter how much he twists his head and neck, the sky remains endless. He is lost in a black shining, twinkling sky. The star's glinting spreads over into his eyes, fills them with the night’s glow. The warmth of home unfurls within his soul. It's calm, steady. Grounding. Grounding to let his mind float weightlessly in the skies.

He sits down and watches the ocean of clouds. Slowly whirling, oh so slowly whirling in circles. It's so easy to believe there is a world down there, beneath the clouds, like it used to be on earth. Shiro knows, there is not. The skies above and the skies beneath him are the only world here. His world.

 

He is alone, when the sun rises. No one is there with him, no one to warn him. Stars fading and black turning violet, then purple, then lilac, are the only hints of morning's dawn. It comes with a blast.

Night gets blown away by the sun. Red and yellow intermingle in a fiery twirl, and shoot across the sky. Unfiltered, clear, behind air so clean, Shiro gets bathed in the sun's early rays. And suddenly, the day is here.

A blazing sun on the horizon, clouds painted a crimson tigress' orange, wild and untamed. Where the night's calmness has been mere seconds ago, there now is the day's buzzing energy. Shiro's heart had stopped, then had started pounding fast and faster, to keep up with the morning's power rushing through his very being.

It has been only seconds, but seconds that had taken his breath away. The sky calms again, colours itself in a soft rose hue and a light arctic blue. Sole remains of the morning's energy are the flaming red the clouds still are dressed in, and the silent promise of return hovering in the air.

It gives Shiro strength, the strength to have faith in hope. He smiles, as he realises with a beating heart, it's called trust. A sun will rise again, over these endless and everlasting skies. That's what suns tend to do.

 

When Shiro comes back, the natives have gathered around the chief’s table again. Lance and Keith happily munch away on their breakfast, Pidge seems still half asleep. Shiro wordlessly joins them. No one asks where he has been. Maybe no one had noticed his absence, or maybe they just didn’t bother about it. The bread still tastes sweet.

“We need the elemental essence to repair the Black Lion, and this planet is the one chosen by the Guardian Spirit of the Sky. We need something, anything, from this planet that carries the sky’s spirit, and we need you to help us find it,” Shiro speaks to all of the natives gathered here. “Whether we can form Voltron again or not lies in your hands.”

He repeats himself, he does know so. The chief repeats herself as well, she can’t help finding the ancient creatures, they are not to be found. But then, Lance throws in that it doesn’t have to be a Namika’s core, just something similar. Shiro listens, but his mind is elsewhere. He doesn’t miss anything of importance though, it’s an endless back and forth. The Paladins wonder what could hold as much elemental essence as a core can, the natives make suggestions as well.

“How about a lamp?” one of them beams with excitement about their idea.

“It’ll shatter,” Keith flatly states.

The sweet bread is mentioned, and Hunk would have been delighted if they brought food back with them, but Pidge snorts and shakes her head, saying this conversation turned out being ridiculous. She is right.

Shiro keeps silent, watches the others discuss and gesture animatedly. The only other person not saying anything besides of Shiro is Natie. He too looks like this whole talking is not worth engaging in. He fixes Shiro with his stare. Completely tuning out their surroundings, their gazes lose themselves in each other.

There are no words carrying the message, but Natie hears the unspoken “I trust you” in Shiro’s eyes. The mission Shiro leads his team into is in no way a pleasant one. Shiro knows that very well, and Natie begins to understand too. It’s dangerous and devastating, wounds and pain and sorrow and grief, even darkness and horror and fear are constantly accompanying them while they fight a war they chose to fight for the sake of others.

Shiro asks them to help him get back into this terrifying chaos. He asks them to support, when he could also just ask them to stand up and fight for themselves. He would have the right to do so. He has given enough. Still he wants to give more. What have their people given so far, Natie asks himself. Is it really asked too much of them, to have faith in Shiro?

 

“Jump,” Natie interrupts the world around him. He says nothing more, no details or instructions or terms. The discussion had died immediately, with how out of place Natie’s word has been. The looks Keith, Lance and Pidge give him are confused ones. The looks his fellow people give him speak of shock and indignation. Natie wouldn’t dare… would he?

It’s with his newfound trust that Shiro blinks at Natie, a bit surprised as well. He slowly turns his head, looks out the open door. The cliff isn’t too far away.

“Jump?” Keith asks like he hadn’t heard right. He didn’t quite catch how jumping is connected to finding a substitute for the core.

“Jump,” is all that Natie asks of the Paladins. He stares directly into their souls, no trace left of trying to follow human’s social standards. It is almost uncomfortable, his intense look, his open eyes. His honest heart, desperately pleading. Lance averts his gaze, as well as Pidge. Not strong enough to last. Keith turns his head to Shiro.

Shiro stares back at Natie, eyes as open as his. Accepting. He doesn’t understand, but he doesn’t know if he has to if he decides to trust Natie. He can feel a warm wave rushing through his veins, like a sun had risen within him. Like drums, humming in his heart. He can’t tell why he suddenly is so excited, but he smiles as he stands up. It’s simple, isn’t it? To just jump.

 

The energy the morning had awakened with radiates in powerful waves off his figure. Shiro’s steps are unwavering and determined, his eyes are sharp with unyielding willpower. No doubt or qualms, no insecure hesitation, no second thoughts. No looking back and no turning back. He carries his body with the strength it holds for once, his presence is that of a Black Paladin. With every step towards the cliff, Shiro’s smile widens into a grin. His heart beats faster and faster for an unknown reason, and his legs speed up his steps, trying to match his racing heart. Coming into existence with a blast, just like the sunrise has, suddenly wild joy thunders within him, heats his body and shakes his breath. He pushes every bit of energy into his last step, pushes off the ground with all the power he has.

One second, he floats midair. A laugh escapes him and he closes his eyes. _This!_ Exactly this. This is his home. But a second doesn’t last the eternity it feels like it lasts, and Shiro can’t fly. He falls. He lacks the bird’s wings.

 

Behind him, an atmosphere of silent disbelief shudders through the natives, more so, paralyses his teammates. Their eyes are glued to his back, but too late do the Paladins react. It’s too late when they jerk awake from their haze, alert attention back on their leader.

Lance yelps a short sharp “Shiro!” and Keith abruptly stands up. Natie asks them to jump, and Shiro does. Shiro did. He just jumped.

A choked sound leaves Pidge’s throat at the sight of Shiro vanishing, of Shiro falling. She storms over, nearly hitting the ground, and comes to a stuttering halt at the cliff’s edge. She doesn’t dare look past it. Her eyes shoot back at Natie, silent and confused rage glittering in them. Why had he asked for such an incomprehensible request?

 

Natie feels like for once in his life, he can’t breathe. No air reaches his lungs. And when finally, he is able to inhale deeply, all he can sense is Shiro’s unfiltered joy. A laugh, a wide smile. Tears welling up. He is shocked as well, he too can’t believe what just had happened. But he wants to. Wants to believe, so he doesn’t give his mind enough time to catch up, and with a smile so much like Shiro’s had been, he sprints towards the cliff, and dives down. He follows Shiro, he jumps, and never has he felt so _alive_! Had Shiro felt the same? Weightless and brave and free?

Shiro feels a rush of air surpassing him, and when he opens his eyes, he sees Natie. Tears sparkle in his sky blue eyes, tears of utter joy and delight, of happiness and relief. Tears in the air, as they leave a trace in their fall. A smile so wide, it reaches past his eyes, reaches the far horizon. His arm had started to form into a wing, flesh turns into azure scales, feathers like shards of shining glass. Like his body shatters, Natie releases his figure from its human cage. The shape of a Namika breaks free.

Gigantic and majestic wings, lithe body. A long tail, feathery fan on its end. An elegant face. Kind azure eyes. Natie turns, and Shiro gently holds onto his neck, almost hovers over his back. With a sudden jerk, Natie beats his strong wings. Clouds rip apart beneath them and air races past them, as Natie turns their plummet down into a plummet up.

 

The Paladins as well as the natives, still shaken, had gathered at the edge of the cliff. Gazing down, they had watched with big eyes. Minds too stunned to process what is happening, they get tumbled over and thrown to the ground, by the rush of wind Natie leaves in his wake, as he beats his wings to reach the sky. Shiro clings to his back. Twisting, Natie pushes into a spiral upwards, wings spreading wide with one powerful clasp, breaking free and welcoming the sky’s air in his feathers. Natie’s call is high and melodic, mellow and mild, but of such endless strength, it reaches deep into every soul, leaving hearts stuttering and shaking.

 

When Natie lands near the cliff, near his people and near the Paladins, when he carefully helps Shiro back onto steady ground, he speaks through the air that connects them all.

“We are the Namika,” he says as he straightens his stance, and opening his wings, he holds himself with pride. “We are the ancient race that once protected the skies of this world.” He lowers himself, almost cowers in front of Shiro and bows his head. “We changed. Haunted and killed by Zarkon’s claws, slaughtered for our quintessence, the skies changed, and we did as well. Now we are shape shifting, taking form of whatever intrudes in our atmosphere, so our home will become a home to our enemies, and we will be seen as one of them.”

In Shiro’s face, all Natie can find is compassion and a quiet apology. No accusation, that the Namika had hidden themselves. There is sadness, for their suffering. Sadness that turns into determination and a promise. Instead of being angry and feeling deceived, Shiro shows them kindness. Natie can feel it, the hitch in Shiro’s breathing, the swelling of his heart.

“The Guardian Spirit reaches everywhere the air reaches, and we share a heart with the sky. It is dangerous, we learned, to expose our hearts, to expose even our true selves to strangers that come to our planet in search of a Namika’s core,” Natie explains. He breathes in, and starts to open his chest. The chief calls out to him, tells him to stop, but Natie won’t listen to his people’s words. He folds his wings protectively around Shiro, urges him closer with his tail.

What Shiro sees is a beating heart and a crystal like orb next to it. Both nestled into bright and smooth cloud like texture. It’s a wound. Scales had ripped apart, leaving sharp edges, deep cuts.

“One gives their core and replaces it with the core of their mate,” Natie whispers. “We trust each other with our hearts, for they hold our soul.” Natie’s fond voice resonates within Shiro’s chest, “Take it.”

Shiro closes his eyes, he feels Natie’s fear and nervousness. He sees a beating heart and a shining soul when he looks up again. His hands are not wavering, but he feels like his whole being trembles as he reaches out for Natie. Sharp edges, deep cuts. Shiro doesn’t stop, his hands get grazed and sliced, blood trickles down, drops into Natie’s own wounds. Light blue scales stained with deep crimson red. Shiro doesn’t stop. He never felt as scared and as resolute at the same time.

He takes hold of Natie’s core with a firm grip. A gasp shudders through Natie, his soul is in Shiro’s wounded hands. And Shiro starts to pull. It hurts and panic arises within him, but Natie forces his chest to stay open. So Shiro can tear his heart out. Shiro’s hands and arms get utterly shredded by Natie’s shard like scales, and he wants it no other way. Natie gives his core, and all Shiro can give in return is his blood. With one last powerful yank Shiro rips his heart out of Natie’s chest.

Natie screeches in agonizing pain, his cry vibrates in Shiro’s chest as well. _It hurts_. When Natie listened to the elders telling tales of exchanging souls with their mate, he never had thought it would hurt like this. And maybe it doesn’t, but Natie will never know. As it had pained him to open his chest, it takes all he has to close it again. His body screams at him, every fiber of his being tries to fight back, because his chest is left empty. It won’t be filled. There is no soul taking the place where his own has been. With mute suffering he closes his chest. A scar takes shape, like lavender cracks.

 

Shiro cradles the core in his arms. It weighs heavy and pulses in a soothing warmth. Tears join the droplets of blood. He understands now, Natie’s words of sharing a heart with the Guardian Spirit. This heart is his now. He can feel every breath taken, he can feel Natie’s wheezing and choking, the shocked gasps of the natives. He feels the wind whirling white clouds around, and feels breezes caressing cheeks, tugging at hair and clothes. There is a link between his mind and the air. His soul is in the skies.

With all his desperate gratitude, he reaches out to every being on this planet. Like Natie has spoken to him, he speaks the way the Namika communicate. Through the link connecting him with the skies, he releases his emotions. There are no words, but the sensation of a tight chest, a beating heart, tearful joy, a sighed relief, buzzing excitement, a painful ache. The hole in his soul he had felt when coming here is filled now, but his soul is no longer the only one he can sense. He leaves without giving his thanks, without promising to cherish Natie’s sacrifice. As soon as Natie folds his wings back he dashes towards the Lions.

Words mean nothing, when he can let everyone glimpse into his soul. He doesn’t know if the natives are understanding or forgiving him, he doesn’t dare to intrude into their minds. He just lets them in and hopes. He trusts. Faith makes him believe it’s okay. Everything will be okay. So he makes haste, to give Natie’s soul a new home.

 

“Quite impatient, are we?” Coran mocks Shiro, who doesn’t even try to defend himself. He keeps pacing up and down, up and down. Like a caged animal, or a child that can’t await to get a present. It had taken _days_ to repair the Black Lion. And finally, finally Coran smiles at him, amused but proud, and nods. “Go, Paladin.”

When Shiro enters his Lion, when he sits down in the pilot’s seat, when his bandaged hands reach out for the handles and his mind reaches out for his connection with Black, a breathy laugh rips from his lungs. The Black Lion’s soft rumble, Natie’s airy chuckle fills his soul.

“ _Fly_ ,” is all that Natie asks of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :D  
>   
> Me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/HapSkyScribbles)  
> Me on [Tumblr](https://hapskyscribbles.tumblr.com/)  
>   
> Feel free to follow/unfollow :)


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